


Wanted

by Anonymous



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alabasta Arc, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Aromantic Asexual Monkey D. Luffy, Bounty Hunters, Dark, Depression, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hurt Monkey D. Luffy, Hurt/Comfort, In fact he is VERY FAR from invincible in this fic, Luffy is not invincible, Nakamaship, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Mugiwara no Ichimi | Straw Hat Pirates, Protective Portgas D. Ace, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threats of Violence, Underage Rape/Non-con, Violence, leverage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27836767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kēji chuckles deeply. “It’s honorable to accept defeat, Straw Hat.”But then the kid shakes his head, even while pressed into the ground, exhaustion amassing in the dark bags beneath his eyes. Blood has begun to drip from his split lower lip, but he is as resolute as can be when he says, “They’re my nakama.”-Set during the beginning of the Alabasta arc, the Straw Hats, Fire Fist, and Princess Vivi have been captured by a band of ruthless bounty hunters. For one Monkey D. Luffy, it gets much worse before it gets better.
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates, Monkey D. Luffy & Nefertari Vivi, Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Luffy & Roronoa Zoro, Monkey D. Luffy & Tony Tony Chopper, Monkey D. Luffy & Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 37
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Back again with another fic utterly destroying one of my favorite characters so I can have him rise from the ashes. While Oda does a good job writing Luffy's PTSD in my opinion, I personally need more. He tends to have this very intriguing tenacity that I want to break down to the toughest point possible. Plus he's, like, a literal ray of sunshine in the One Piece universe, so I just gotta love him. And there's not nearly enough Luffy fics out there. 
> 
> This is set during the Alabasta arc, so it features characters like Vivi and Ace, excluding the Straw Hats that have not joined yet. I love the vibe of the early One Piece days when Luffy wasn't as OP as he is now; it makes for some really good whump. Anyway, here's this incredibly self-indulgent piece I've been working on for a few months in scattered intervals. I will post more chapters relatively soon, I just need to review them first. 
> 
> Look at the tags, and be warned... Enjoy!

_ Luffy! Luffy!  _ A band of voices beckon through the paper-thin walls. 

The disorientation twists his vision into a bleary mess of color, and the salt stings the interior of his nose and mouth like acid. 

Even through the decrepit thick of vomiting up mouthfuls of water, the raven-haired captain grins with conviction. By now, he’s lost count how many times his head has been shoved underwater, yet one thing remains as clear as the cloudless heavens of East Blue: Hell hath no fury like Monkey D. Luffy’s nakama.

Someone presses a knee against Luffy’s head, trying to knock the smile from his lips. The movement exhorts another swell of water out of his lungs, and the pirate is reminded of just how thirsty he’s become. The person attached to the knee against Luffy’s cheek snorts, pulling away harshly. His head lolls against his chest, exhausted and aching for more air than he’s currently taking in. 

“I’d expect nothing less from a bounty of thirty million.” 

“Don’t worry, Devil Fruit users can’t do shit without their powers. We can do whatever we want to him,” another laughs, the emphasis on  _ whatever _ rolling a wave of agitation through Luffy’s body. He still doesn’t know why they’re doing this–torturing him when he’s already so weak from hunger and thirst. 

The voices finally cease sledgehammering into Luffy’s skull. Now with the ability to hear himself think, he realizes something crucial. It’s not the Marines; his jii-chan would never allow this. That’s important information to relay once he gets back to his crew, even though they’ve undoubtedly figured it out already. A sudden swell of pride for his nakama erupts within his chest.  _ They’ll escape soon enough.  _

Before the pirate can even start thinking up an escape plan, his assailants dig into his shoulders once more, and someone with a gravelly voice sneers, “We’re gonna be rich  _ and _ famous with this kid’s head.” 

_ Bounty hunters it is.  _

The Straw Hats and Fire Fist Ace had only just started their trek across the vast desert. Judging by the tremendous headache Luffy awoke to, they all must have been drugged. Probably from a distance as well, because nobody can sneak up on the Straw Hats with ill intent without being sliced or filleted by Zoro and Sanji. 

_ I have to get us out of here so I can go beat up Crocodile already!  _ Luffy thinks, nostrils flaring in anger.  _ For Vivi.  _

Similar to Nami’s sickness, Luffy grounds himself in her determination. But the sudden surge of motivation is quickly extinguished by the Sea Stone chains; it’s as if his bones have become ten times heavier as he involuntarily relaxes in his seat. Luffy’s tongue feels like sandpaper, and despite how worn-out his body is, he would fight a hundred people for Sanji to cook him something right now.

On the subject of his crew–Vivi, Ace, and his nakama are cramped in the room next door, and Luffy tethers himself to their muffled, careworn voices like a lifeboat to a ship. He has to overcome this; for his crew’s sake, for Vivi’s country, and so his big brother stops worrying. Even if he still doesn’t know why these guys are torturing him. 

When Luffy’s head is ripped from the water yet again, one of the masked hunters grumbles, “Enough. This isn’t getting anywhere.” 

The raven-haired captain heaves water out of his throat even louder than before to make sure he can be heard through the wall.  _ Just so you guys know I’m alive _ , he thinks, grinning to himself.

“He’s smiling again, what the Hell?” 

“This stupid kid isn’t taking us seriously.” 

“10,000 Beli to whoever can knock that smirk off his face.” 

Smiling has never been a sign of weakness for Luffy–it’s always quite the opposite. But right now it seems to bring out the worst in his enemies. The bounty hunters are making some kind of wager, and Luffy is too focused on his friends through the wall–Ace is shouting something–no, now it’s Sanji, now Nami. Their voices blend together, and he wants to smash the barrier between them with his forehead just so he can listen clearly, soak in every word for strength, delight in every familiar pair of eyes set upon him. 

Luffy growls as the chains around his wrists tighten, and the man in front of him recoils in fear. 

_ We’re going to raise Hell when we escape, and you’ll be the first one I pummel.  _

Another man saunters forward, shoving his crony aside in the process. Luffy is still adjusting to the water and dim lamplight, but notices that unlike the others, he isn’t wearing a mask. In fact, he’s wearing a lot less than the others, who are all decked out in desert cloaks and garb. His attire is composed of a ripped, sleeveless shirt and pants that cut down to his ankles. At his forehead, an olive bandana pushes back a thin layer of silver hair. The lower part of his face is covered in small, circular scars, most hidden by his gray five o’clock shadow. The man is rather stout, but muscular enough to snap someone’s neck with his bare hands if he wanted. Luffy feels something knot inside his stomach. Uneasiness, maybe? He doesn’t know why, exactly, and the fact that he doesn’t know why makes the knot tighten further. 

“If you can’t handle one skinny brat, you’re not meant to be a hunter, Axel.”

Laughter scatters through the small room. The embarrassed bounty hunter tugs at his mask, voice rich with contempt. 

“Don’t joke around, Kēji. I’m the one who got us in this business to begin with. We all know how much this guy is worth. Best not take him lightly.”

The seedy ringleader turns to his comrade, then shifts his gaze to Luffy, eyes as dark and icy as the night sky. “Well, I think you’re overestimating this rubber freak. He can’t even handle a few dozen tankards of seawater.”

He leans in close to Luffy, grips his hair with a meaty hand, and taunts, “Isn’t that right?” 

The young pirate lifts his head to meet the man’s eyes, scowls dauntlessly, and spits in his face. The other bounty hunters in the room fall silent, undoubtedly waiting for their boss’ rage to untether. Kēji doesn’t shift his proximity, and Luffy watches staunchly as something under the surface of his masked expression hardens like molten rock. He unblinkingly wipes his cheek with two fingers and examines Luffy in the lamplight. 

His nakama are shouting something unintelligible through the thin walls, and the young pirate quickly averts his eyes, an instinctual reassurance on his lips. Kēji catches him first, shoving his fingers in Luffy’s mouth as he starts to yell, “Guys, I’m okay, don’t worry about me! I’m gonna get us out of–mmph!” 

“Noisy brat,” The man scoffs, forcing his fingers deeper down Luffy’s throat. A choked-off gagging noise is fighting its way through, and Kēji laughs like a drunkard. “You really think you’re anything but useless in those Sea Stone chains? A captain without his crew, and a crew without their captain. All they amount to is  _ nothing _ .” 

Luffy twists in discomfort as Kēji grips his chin with his other hand. The bounty hunters must notice this, because they laugh as if it’s the most hilarious thing in the Grand Line. Like his nakama are worth nothing. The raven-haired captain glares with a fierce determination, and before Kēji can move his hand, he bites down as hard as his jaws allow. 

“Shit!” 

As if on reflex, Kēji backhands Luffy across the face, who just barely avoids biting his tongue. “You little brat!” 

Luffy rolls his shoulders from under the bondage and growls lowly, voice strained and hoarse. 

“You’re really starting to piss me off.”

The bounty hunter’s face twitches, fists curling and uncurling fitfully; it reminds Luffy of the especially violent Sea Kings he and his crew have fought. The slightest thing can set those beasts off. And maybe it’s that, the utter unknown that has Luffy’s shoulders in an iron grip, the knot under his ribs that twists in further agitation and says:  _ Don’t rush this. He’s more dangerous than you think.  _

“Can’t we just knock him out or somethin’, Kēji?” The man from before asks– _ Abel? No, Axel _ –lazily rubbing a hand on his neck. 

Kēji whips around to his comrade and drives a fist into his stomach. 

“Shut up!” 

Luffy lifts his head, pupils shrinking in alarm. The rest of the bounty hunters shift restlessly as Axel crumples to the floor, and their boss’ shoulders rise and fall, eyes glinting with something bordering on madness. He stands up straight and inspects each of them, about seven in total. 

“Anyone else?” 

Met with silence, he huffs in approval and turns his attention back to Luffy. He leans in once again and smiles like a shark about to bite. “You wanna spit on me, you brat? Go ahead.”

Luffy glares, inwardly cursing the Sea Stone restricting his body. Ace and his nakama are so close-by, he just has to get to them somehow; the stupid chains aren’t letting him stretch, and it makes each movement more tiring than the last. He needs to tell his nakama he’s all right, even if these bounty hunters look like they’re about to do something worse than dunk him in some seawater. 

As if he can sense Luffy’s unwavering spirit, Kēji grins cruelly and says, “How about we make a deal, Straw Hat? If you cooperate, I’ll leave your worthless little pirate crew alone.”

Luffy slants his eyes, remaining silent. His hair is slowly hardening with salt, some wet strands glued to his face, and the droplets that splash against the sandstone floor could be as loud as gunshots, with the level of tension in the room. He had wondered how long it would take for the hunters to use his crew against him. 

Kēji takes his silence as a victory and continues. “But you gotta give us a little something in return,” he breathes into Luffy’s ear, firmly clutching his knee with a large hand. The pirate’s lips set into a deeper frown, eyebrows furrowing in latent confusion as the man doesn’t release his grip, doesn’t draw back– _ Why isn’t he moving? _

“Let go,” Luffy orders stiffly, forcing down a shudder against Kēji’s other hand, now digging into his neck. It’s not quite choking him, but the wordless threat thunders in his ears. The lamplight contrasts the bounty hunter’s ice-cold eyes, boring down into him, as if they’re trying to rip out something nonexistent. As the rest of the men in the room surround the chair like hungry sharks, Luffy knows–while his wet hair obscures his view of their faces–that their masks still remain. 

_ Why cover your faces, unless you’re afraid? _

Even with this revelation, Luffy feels the dull ache of intimidation rolling in his stomach now, especially because Kēji is somehow getting closer, his hands are moving differently to most people he fights, and it’s becoming more confusing and a little bit scary. 

“That’s cute. He still doesn’t get it,” A raspy voice says from behind him, and someone pulls on his hair so hard he’s forced to look up, his neck aching in a way it normally doesn’t due to his rubber body. Luffy swallows down a lump in his throat as another masked figure leans in close. 

“You think he even knows what’s happening? He’s probably too stupid,” someone laughs, tugging at his shirt with the blunt edge of a knife. The words fall on deaf ears as Luffy suddenly finds a jolt of strength and rattles against his chains, shaking the legs of the chair beneath him. The bounty hunters, save for Kēji, back up slightly. The knife clatters to the floor.

“Get  _ off _ me! Stop touching me! I’m not gonna do what you want, so just forget it!” Luffy roars, eyes clenched shut, teeth grinding against teeth, almost like a vulnerable animal that’s been backed into a corner. 

A muffled shout that sounds like Usopp or Chopper answers him, and even through the wall, Luffy can tell they’re depending on him. He has to do something. Anything. He’ll fight, even with the stupid Sea Stone, even while stuck in a chair, even against eight bounty hunters. 

“You guys! I’ll help you once I take out these jerks, so stop worrying about me!” Luffy shouts, his own words fueling his determination to fight. The bounty hunters hesitantly mutter amongst themselves, as if he’s a rabid dog about to bite. 

“You spineless lot of–” Kēji rumbles, cutting himself off to glare at his prisoner. Luffy just wants the man to stop touching him; it feels grimy and wrong, like there are a hundred worms crawling under where their skin meets. 

“Men, go monitor the crew since none of you have the backbone to be here.” 

The bounty hunters eye each other, visibly disappointed.

“Wait, really?”

“But, Boss–”

“Go!  _ Now!” _ Kēji bellows, and the hunters scuttle away in an instant. Axel remains limp on the floor, chest rising and falling slowly. 

For a few seconds, the door to his nakama is open, and Luffy hears their voices clearly. Sanji is the first, roaring furiously as the masked men pile into their room. “What the Hell are you shitheads doing?” 

Above him, Ace shouts across the room, and the younger pirate revels in the feeling of security it brings him. “Oi, Luffy! Are you hurt?” 

As a fellow Devil Fruit user, he too is undoubtedly constrained by Sea Stone, otherwise they would all be free in an instant. Before Luffy can answer his brother, Kēji shoves a hand over his mouth. 

“Oh, no, no. We don’t want them getting all riled up now, do we?” 

Luffy thrashes in frustration, biting his lip so hard it draws blood. Deep laughter rumbles loudly in his ears, and now there are two hands at his throat, and Kēji squeezes hard enough that it feels like he’s choking, but not enough to cut off his oxygen. 

“Let go,” Luffy hisses, another futile attempt to intimidate his captor. Kēji picks up the knife that was forgotten on the floor, roughly grabbing Luffy by the collar. He cuts upward, the tip of the blade digging into his torso as the fabric of his shirt tears. And even though they’re in Alabasta–the country known for its unbearable heat–Luffy shivers violently against the open air. A tremulous uncertainty crawls up his spine as the bounty hunter rips around the Sea Stone chains. 

“What are you doing?”

Kēji mutters lowly in his ears, almost a gritty whisper. “I haven’t fucked any whores since my men and I chose you as our bounty. We’ve been pursuing your group for weeks. All the more reason for your compensation, Straw Hat.”

Luffy is silent and still for a moment before he feels the legs of the chair he’s tied to snap, flinching back in shock. He crumples to the ground, body splayed out and helpless. His eyes search the looming man above him, sharp and angry with an impermeable wall of tension behind them. 

“Fight me, you coward!” 

At that, Kēji’s ferocity comes flooding back, and it’s so sudden it almost frightens Luffy. 

Almost. 

_ What’s this guy’s deal? _ All Luffy gets as an answer is a kick to the ribs and a punch to the face that makes his skull tremble. Behind the ringing in his ears, Luffy can hear the bounty hunter screaming in fury,“Is this enough for you, Straw Hat? Should we wait till you’re begging me to kill you?”

Luffy tries to cough up the clot of blood stuck behind his tongue, but there is no time; Kēji easily grabs him by the shoulders and shoves him into the wall, knocking over a lantern in the process. 

In a slower moment, it would be so easy to pretend that the shattered pieces of glass were his chains, the fire spilling across the floor was Ace’s, and he’d been saved in an instant. And it could have been the young pirate’s imagination, but the voices in the other room were getting louder, more desperate, at the sounds of struggle.

_ Keep fighting, Luffy! Don’t give up! _

“Shut up! Let go of me!” 

Kēji instead does the opposite, pinning Luffy by the neck and leaning in close, so close the raven-haired pirate can feel the man’s putrid breath against his cheek. It’s smells awful and he’s  _ too close,  _ but Luffy isn’t really in the mind to focus on either of those things. He kicks frantically off the ground as Kēji chokes him, the panic swelling high as a hand violently claws at his chest. Luffy watches as black spots blur in and out of his vision like a pulsating abyss. 

His lungs ignite as the panic rolls through him full-force. The realization that he can’t just fight and escape has finally sunk in, noxious and discomforting. Kēji suddenly releases his chokehold, and Luffy crumples to the floor, trying his best to savor as much oxygen possible before God knows what. 

It’s new, all of this–he doesn’t get what this man wants from him, why he keeps touching him with such a vehement intent to cause pain, accomplice to an unfamiliar storm of evil underneath. It’s another thing Luffy decides he hates, something that sends a twisted claw of discomfort and fear ripping at his insides. In stone-cold silence, he tries to sit up, to gain at least  _ some _ equal ground, but Kēji beats him to it.

The pirate struggles amidst a string of  _ you bastard, get off, let go _ as he’s dragged across the floor, the Sea Stone chains riding up to his neck. Luffy is so tired of not being able to breathe properly, hearing the rapid, deafening thump of his heart inside his skull like the sonorous beat of a drum. Kēji digs an elbow between the dark-eyed boy’s shoulder blades, shoving all of his weight against one of the sandstone tables. Luffy gets the wind knocked out of him as the man’s lips touch his ears, voice dripping with animosity. 

“There aren’t many virgins out there with such a high bounty. You’re a rarity, Straw Hat,” Kēji chuckles. 

Luffy freezes beneath the bounty hunter’s looming form. The rising anger has yet to reach its zenith, but it’s not yet powerful enough to drown out the alarms blaring in his head. Kēji’s voice shifts into icy steel as he digs his fingernails into Luffy’s shoulders. 

“You try to fight back and I won’t hesitate to slit the throats of each and every one of your pathetic nakama. And once I finish, I’m gonna get paid thirty million Beli to drop your mangled, fucked-out corpse at the World Government’s doorstep.” 

The pirate’s eyes widen, body trembling as he tries to recoil, even just a little, but Kēji holds him in place and drives his waist further into the table. He yelps as the bounty hunter slams his head into the stone, more than once for assurance. Cacophony erupts in his skull, and Luffy can hear something happening in the other room, but it’s probably just his mind catering to his little remaining hope. 

“You may be weak, but I want to make sure you stay that way. Thirty million is thirty million, even if I don’t know how a brat like you managed the highest bounty in East Blue.”

Kēji tugs at the cuffs of Luffy’s shorts, grunting in frustration as the raven-haired pirate claws at his forearms. Divergent sounds of protest erupt from Luffy’s throat as a meaty hand shifts to his waistband. Kēji finally manages to rip the navy-blue fabric off the boy’s slender thighs, and he exhales in amusement, eyes crawling over his tanned form. Luffy jolts up, teeth aiming for his assailant’s face. Recoiling back, Kēji pins the pirate’s wrists above his head. 

“Just give up, you little–!” 

Luffy frantically searches the room for anything that could be of aid; his last resort before the adrenaline overwhelms him completely. When he finds nothing, the pirate’s dark eyelashes flutter upward, beads of sweat dripping off his brow, as his gaze meets the bounty hunter. A hoarse breath of air escapes his lips. Kēji admires the sight before him for a moment, letting out a deep, zealous chuckle. 

“I’m starting to think the cash is just icing on the cake. You really are a piece of work, Straw Hat.”

Before he can speak up, Kēji seizes the boy’s thick hair and smashes their lips together in a dry, ruthless kiss. Luffy coughs out a strangled whimper, writhes against the stranger’s touch, thrashes his legs out– _ If I can just get the chains off, if I can get to my nakama... _

The hand at his waist drops lower, digging nails into Luffy’s skin, bruising sure to follow in the days to come.  _ If I don’t die before then, _ a part of his mind supplies uselessly. The feeling of Kēji’s tongue in his mouth is vile; he’d bite down if his mind weren’t so occupied with the bounty hunter’s aggressive hands. Luffy finally manages to wrench his head away, gasping wildly for air. He’d forgotten in the spur of the awful moment that he could breathe through his nose. 

The young pirate’s lower lip quivers, humiliation rolling through his body, panic rich in his voice as he shouts, “Stop! Stop it! I don’t want this!” He sucks in a few more desperate breaths. “Stop, stop...” 

With the taste of sake and stale air lingering in his mouth, the pirate holds back the sob welling in his throat, unable to restrain the terror-stricken tears that drip down his cheeks. His eyes are blown wide in the dingy lamplight, body frozen in place more out of shock than from the Sea Stone chains. 

Kēji grins, teeth dirty and sallow, eyes crazed with lust. “Is this frightening to you, Straw Hat?” 

Luffy wants to recoil into himself, wishes he could somehow expel the Gomu Gomu fruit from his stomach ten years prior. At least then he’d have the small blessing of being able to curl himself into a ball for a few shreds of comfort. His mind continues its race alongside his heart, with Kēji pressed so close to his chest that he can surely feel it beating. Luffy stares fiercely at the sandstone tile beyond the desk he’s pinned against, wishes he could just slam his head into it until he blacks out. Then he wouldn’t have to endure the shame of defeat, the vulnerability of the position he’s been forced into. 

Or the fear. This dark, seeping fear–scarce to anything Luffy has felt before. 

Kēji anchors a meaty hand in the pirate’s dark hair and forces him to look up. His mouth feels dry as sand, Adam’s apple protruding from his neck as Luffy arches back painfully. It’s getting harder to breathe in a way that has nothing to do with his lungs. 

“Let me give you some advice: The Grand Line isn’t the place for pirates who want to play hero.”

The forceful hands at his waist dip lower–ripping away the rest of his clothes–and all that remains are shreds of fabric caught in the Sea Stone chains. Luffy clutches his eyelids shut, the muscles in his neck tensing as Kēji’s hands saunter over him. 

“Why?” Luffy grits out through a vicious shiver; less a question and more a symptom of anger. His jaw is set in place like stone, teeth biting the skin inside his mouth raw, and he still doesn’t understand why Kēji is doing this. 

The man smirks cruelly, clawing his fingers up Luffy’s thigh. “Because, I might as well make good use of the tramps I capture for the Marines.” 

Luffy growls, the sound coming from deep inside his throat, emerging from his chest like the rumble of an earthquake. Fury of this kind is unfamiliar in the pirate’s body. It does not belong. It should not be within him–this murderous thing. Yet he glares at Kēji with all the strength he has, shaking ferociously. 

“Oh? You still got some fight left in you, Straw Hat,” the man scowls. He grabs his knife, casually raising his arm to beat Luffy with the handle. 

Kēji’s feet are suddenly kicked out from beneath him, the Sea Stone chains swinging so fiercely they snap like a whip at the bounty hunter’s calves. The stout man winces in pain, throwing a hand over his bleeding skin. Luffy’s vision has gone a deep shade of crimson–a hysterical rage–as he screams, “ _ I said stop, you bastard! _ ” 

The pirate continues his struggle, writhing his body as much as he can to keep his assailant from coming any closer. Kēji stumbles back, sweat dripping down his chin, and he eyes the pirate with the first signs of wariness Luffy’s seen out of him since he woke up. During the skirmish, the ankles of his pants were cut by the chains, and the man stares at the wounds, tensing up at the sight of his own blood. 

Luffy stops thrashing, exhaustion settling in his chest as soon as Kēji retreats. He gulps in large breaths of air, almost to compensate for all the oxygen he’s lost in the time since. His eyes never leave the man across the room, who’s become eerily still and silent. A chill runs down Luffy’s spine as Kēji slowly walks toward a duffel bag slouched by the wall. He bends down and grabs something that looks like a bottle of wine, then turns to face the pirate again. 

“I–I’m the man ...” Luffy gasps, voice hardening in determination, “who will become the Pirate King.” 

Kēji stares with an unreadable expression upon his grizzled face. He considers the bottle of wine in his hand, pops off the cork, and chugs it. Luffy watches him finish his drink, nerves still running awfully high. The residual feeling of the bounty hunter’s touch remains–like a brand burning through his skin–and Luffy earnestly hopes Chopper can cure whatever sickness is churning in his stomach. 

The bounty hunter speaks lowly, eyes shadowed by his gray locks of hair. “Pirate King, eh? And I wanted to save this wine.” 

Without warning, he smashes the empty glass bottle against the wall behind him. Now brandishing a new weapon, Kēji saunters toward Luffy, his murderous glower emerging from the deep shadows. Horrifying. The young pirate doesn’t regret speaking, just tries to prepare himself for more pain. 

“You’re fucking joking! A pathetic wimp like you?” he barks, hands tightening around the bottle neck. There are veins popping out of his forehead, spit flying off his tongue, and Luffy vaguely reconsiders opening his mouth again. 

_ Ah, he’s even angrier than before. _

Kēji launches at him, raising the sharp end of the broken wine bottle, and the young captain can’t move a muscle in his body. He used up all his energy before, and the fatigue returns tenfold. 

“You’ll never amount to anything, you pirate scum!” 

The glass connects with Luffy’s face, and before he can process the pain, it’s digging into his skin again, and again, and again. His body shudders like a listless ragdoll. Somewhere far away, the young pirate hears screaming.  _ Is that what I sound like? _ He wonders, shock overwhelming his body. 

And in a mere split second, it grabs hold of him; the voice becomes an ache in his throat, the pain he anticipated lights up like a fire doused with gasoline. The left side of his face is a mess, mangled with shards of glass and twisted skin. His eyelids struggle to open, the white-hotness hitting him full force, and he can’t stop screaming. 

_ Luffy!  _

_ Luffy-san!  _

_ Captain!  _

The voices through the wall are shouting again, deep and familiar compared to the wild state of his own damaged vocal cords. It hurts so much. He doesn’t understand. 

_ I want my nakama. I want Ace. Where are they?  _

Kēji finally stops stabbing him, and Luffy can only tell because he watches through squinted eyes as the man sets the glass down for a moment. His shoulders rise and fall harshly, meaty hands doused in the pirate’s blood, and a lustful tenacity returns to his face. 

Then, time shifts. Luffy’s body, which now feels detached, is flipped over, and the bounty hunter hastily unbuckles his pants and spits into his hand.  _ I can’t cry anymore, _ Luffy resolves, the corners of his vision already blurring. Kēji groans lowly, head thrown back in pleasure as he does something the raven-haired pirate can’t see from his spot on the floor. All he’s focused on is the door Ace and his nakama are trapped behind. 

_ I won’t cry.  _

There’s more pressure on his lower back, fervent hands trailing harshly downward. The miserable tears break through, slipping down the curve of his nose, running through the firm line of his lips like the tributary of a river. 

_ I won’t... _


	2. Chapter 2

Kēji grins to himself. 

The boy beneath him tenses up, eyes blown wide–somehow wider than before. He’s making these pathetic, choked-off noises that send a wave of pleasure through the bounty hunter’s body. With a sudden urge, Kēji picks up the wine bottle again and smashes it into his shoulder. Luffy screams, face contorting into a hurricane of shame and fear. That seems to soak up all the pirate’s energy, and his head lolls against the floor. 

“Just stop...” he mutters, his voice so hoarse and drowned out that Kēji almost misses it. 

_ Finally, the kid’s getting it. _

The bounty hunter pretends not to have heard anything. A show of weakness from the brat is euphoric compared to the wine he downed earlier. 

“Didn’t quite catch that, Straw Hat. You’ll have to speak up,” Kēji smirks, mouth curling rabidly as he picks up the pace. He digs his fingernails deeper into the pirate’s hip, now stroking himself wildly against his lower back. Kēji bites into Straw Hat’s unharmed shoulder, reveling in the way he shivers away from the touch. 

_ It’s never about the pain with them; it’s always humiliation. But with this brat who thinks he’ll be the Pirate King? _

He smirks into Straw Hat’s neck, breath like feverish incense. Satisfied, Kēji digs his fingernails into the kid’s unkempt black hair while positioning himself at his hips. He catches the frightened, miserable glint in Straw Hat’s eyes at the sensation, feels the shudder run through him. The brat looks like he’s going into shock. 

_ We can’t have that _ , Kēji laments. 

He presses fully against Straw Hat’s trembling frame. Roughly gripping his left arm, Kēji bends it behind Luffy’s back, shifting the glass shards nested in his tan skin. The kid gasps, eyebrows furrowing deeply at the sudden pain. Kēji grabs Luffy by the throat, forcing his eyes to stay locked on the door in front of them, and murmurs slickly into his ears. 

“Should I tell my comrades to open that door right now?” 

Luffy stays frozen, muscles tensing underneath the hunter. He opens his mouth, words escaping him, then clenches his jaw shut. The kid looks about ready to give in and pass out, but those words from his captor hit him like a barrel of ice water. Kēji runs his tongue up Luffy’s neck, watches as his jaw clenches, feeling his Adam’s apple wobble under his grip. 

“What a dirty position for a captain to be in. Imagine what they’ll think if they see you playing whore for a bounty hunter.”

It’s splayed across his face for Kēji to see.  _ Straw Hat would rather die, wouldn’t he? _

The bounty hunter squeezes his neck harder, cutting off his air for a moment, then releasing. Violent coughs erupt from the pirate’s body as he crumples to the floor. 

Kēji chuckles deeply. “It’s honorable to accept defeat, Straw Hat.” 

But then the kid shakes his head, even while pressed into the ground, exhaustion amassing in the dark bags beneath his eyes. Blood has begun to drip from his split lower lip, but he is as resolute as can be when he says, “They’re my nakama.” 

One would think he claimed to have created the stars, to have forged the sun in its magnificence. The faith and trust in Straw Hat’s face is infuriating, and the bounty hunter glowers, anger rebounding like the aftershock of an earthquake. In the spur of the moment, Kēji thrusts to the hilt, large forearms trapping Luffy in a chokehold. 

Straw Hat grits his teeth hard, tears budding at the corners of his eyes, and his reaction is wind to a bonfire. Overcome with pleasure, Kēji knows that he won’t be able to stop himself no matter what the pirate says now. He grunts into Luffy’s ears, bruising his hips with each aggressive thrust. 

“Do you want your nakama to see you like this, Straw Hat?  _ Do you?!” _

Luffy’s voice returns to him, a missing bolt in the mechanism of his body, and he’s screaming so brutally that his voice cracks. Kēji doesn’t cease his assault; he pounds into the young pirate’s body like he’s digging into a grave. The older man can feel himself reaching his climax, building up to an eruption of pleasure as Luffy writhes around him helplessly. 

“S–Stop! Stop! _ ” _ Luffy cries out, voice wracked with emotion, and Kēji groans in pleasure.  _ So much better than the bounty,  _ he thinks to himself. 

Hearing the pirate whimper under him, the shatter of his young heart, it’s enough for Kēji to pick up the pace, thrusts becoming erratic. His body tenses up at release, arm still wrapped around Luffy’s neck, and his eyelids stutter for a moment before he slumps against the pirate’s limp body. He pulls out and admires the sight before him. Kēji could almost do it all again, and just that possibility has him flipping Luffy over so he can see the look on the _future_ _Pirate King_ ’s face. 

Straw Hat’s tear-stained eyelids have shut–he’s definitely unconscious now–and his chest struggles to rise.  _ Must have been the strangulation, _ Kēji assumes. 

“Cocky brats like you deserve this,” he smirks, tugging the boy up to his knees, limbs like that of a ragdoll, and thrusts into his mouth. “You hear me? You deserve this.” 

This time, he lasts no more than thirty seconds, and when he finishes, Kēji almost considers keeping Straw Hat for himself. His men would never allow it; they’re low on supplies and need the cash. But the thought of the brat waking up with the taste of Kēji on his tongue is exhilarating enough. 

He observes Straw Hat’s face for a moment, pressing a thumb to his soft lips. He knows some nobles in the slave business–this kid could make him a fortune. Far more than thirty million Beli. 

“I lost my temper with you, Straw Hat,” he frowns. “I’d rip your tongue out if it weren’t so damn rewarding.” 

It’s then something hard and blunt slams into the back of Kēji’s skull. 

His spine stiffens painfully, and the last sight the bounty hunter has before he sinks into unconsciousness is Axel, frowning down at him with an apathetic sort of disgust on his face. 

“Sorry, Boss. Don’t want you killing our thirty million bounty.”

* * *

The short hunter sighs and rubs his sore stomach. 

_ Poor Straw Hat. Boss went too far this time.  _

He looks around the room, contemplating what to do next. With the rest of the hunters gone, Axel pretty much has the liberty to anything, including both Kēji and Straw Hat. He’s gotten pretty tired of his boss’ behaviour; being punched in the gut had never been in the job description, after all. 

Straw Hat is still unconscious on the floor, clothes ripped to shreds. Axel had been passed out for most of the time, but what he did see made him sick to his stomach. He was the one who started their band of bounty hunters– _ How did it go so wrong? _

Walking over to the pirate, he hesitates for a moment.  _ Ah, what can I use to cover him up?  _ He unties his headscarf–typically used for protection against the desert sun–and gently knots it around the pirate’s waist. He’d just have to make do with a sunburn for a few days before he reached the next town. 

“This one’s for you, kid.” Axel mumbles half-heartedly, grabbing Kēji’s large shoulders as he squeezes his stout body out through the back door. It takes a lot of energy, the guy’s huge, but he manages to reach their trading cart outside. 

The night is almost upon them, and he’s kind of scared Kēji will wake up and pummel him, but he thinks Straw Hat deserves a break. Even if he’s a pirate, what happened in there was ... well. It  _ was _ , and it shouldn’t have been. Axel grabs some loose rope and ties up his boss–no,  _ former _ boss, boss-that-should-never-have-been-boss–and throws his empty bag over the man’s head. 

_ Hopefully the Straw Hat crew won’t kill me. Shouldn’t take any chances.  _

_ I’ll just give myself a head start. _

As the blazing sun drifts toward the horizon, Axel boards his cart and rides away from camp. No goodbyes, no friendly pats on the back. He’s never coming back to this business, not after what he’s witnessed. He leaves most of the food supply–maybe the kid will need some. It’s never good to have a pirate crew on your tail, but Axel just hopes they can escape soon enough to save their captain.


	3. Chapter 3

“Anyone wanna check on Boss? He’s probably done with Straw Hat by now.” 

“Damn it. I wanted a turn with him, too.”

“Shut up, you idiot.” 

“Ah, let’s just all go. I don’t want him killing me if I interrupt him.” 

“Copy that. Come on, you lot.”

As the bounty hunters pile out the door, Ace cranes his neck to peer into the other room. 

It’s too dark where they’re being held captive, and even though he’s technically just an outsider, he’s become quite fond of the Straw Hat crew in their short amount of time together. Maybe it’s the knowledge that Luffy chose them, that he wants them to be safe; or maybe it’s  _ because _ Luffy chose them that Ace is fond as well, since their taste in nakama isn’t too different. Like brother, like brother, after all. 

If Ace weren’t so irate right now, he’d be proud of how protective the Straw Hats are over his ambitious, energetic, adorable little brother. 

He can’t help but feel like he’s to blame for all of this. The bounty hunters must have been tailing him and caught wind of the price on Luffy’s head. That must be why they’re interrogating him. That must be why his little brother has been screaming his lungs out for the past fifteen minutes. Even though they were faint, each frantic noise tightened Ace’s shoulderblades like the tripwire connected to a set of rigged explosives. 

_ Stupid Sea Stone, stupid bounty hunters, stupid Wanted posters;  _ the few downsides of piracy on the Grand Line. 

By far the most frustrating is the hostage situation; the moment they awoke, it was to a single bounty hunter pressing a gun to the Alabastan princess’ temple, demanding cooperation. For once in his time after departing Whitebeard’s ship, Ace wishes he had some damn backup already.

He now stares at Luffy’s crew with a burning ferocity, and they look back just the same. 

As awful as the situation is, it doesn’t help that Zoro is the one closest to the door, eyes straining to catch a glimpse of his captain as the hunters pile out. And they can all tell when he does, because his face goes pale, veins jut out of his neck, and his mouth drops open slightly in a way that looks hauntingly uncharacteristic on the swordsman. The door slams shut, and they silently stare at Zoro, who appears about ready to commit a massacre.

“How is he?” Ace asks through the thick fog of tension, even though the answer is clearly written all over the swordsman’s face. 

“Not good,” is all Zoro grits out, and no one presses it. 

Ace watches as something murderous makes its way through the Straw Hat crew. In less than a minute, Usopp has jimmied the locks on their handcuffs; there’s no more hostage princesses to worry about. The bounty hunters obviously don’t take them as a threat if they’re willing to leave the room without any leverage. Another wave of shame befalls the Whitebeard commander.  _ I let myself get captured by a group of idiots.  _

Then Ace pales. Maybe Luffy is the leverage now. 

Beside him, Chopper is shifting into  _ Doctor-mode _ , and he keeps glancing at Zoro, almost as if he’s procuring a mental image of Luffy’s condition from the swordsman’s dark expression alone. Nami and Vivi are rightfully concerned, gripping their weapons tight as everyone crowds around the door. They’re locked in, but that isn’t the issue here. A surprise attack is easier than having to fight every single bounty hunter to get to Luffy. Best to do it in one fell swoop. 

Sanji and Zoro nod at each other–there’s no time for rivalry when their captain is concerned–and the door bursts open in three, two, one. They storm inside, and Usopp has already shot down three of the hunters, Nami has two painfully clutching their groins, and the rest are taken care of by Sanji. Chopper rushes to Luffy’s side, accompanied by Ace and Zoro, and soon the others.

A wave of relief washes over Ace when he sees Luffy’s chest rise– _ He’s alive, he’s alive, that’s what matters _ –but it’s stifled immediately by the state of his little brother. There’s so  _ much _ that Ace doesn’t know what to focus on; that’s never a good thing when it comes to injuries. There’s the blood, for one, a copious amount of it spewing from Luffy’s shoulder. He looks closer and sees something shiny sticking out of his skin. 

_It’s_ _glass_ , _they stabbed him_ –another piece of lumber thrown into the fire of Ace’s growing anger. 

“What have they done to Luffy-san?” Vivi gasps from behind her hands, eyes welling up with tears. Beside the princess, Nami grits her teeth so hard Ace wonders if they’ve chipped. Her face twists guiltily, and she glances down at herself as if her body has failed her. Sanji’s hands are shaking a bit as he reaches toward his pocket, the habit of a smoker, quickly and extrinsically forgotten. Behind him, Usopp is frozen in place, eyes stuck on his captain’s still body, like he’s waiting for someone to announce  _ It’s not as bad as it looks. _

It’s somehow actually worse than it looks; beyond the blood, there’s bruises all over his body, half-inch scratch marks on Luffy’s thighs and hips; his clothes have been ripped up, bits of red and blue fabric scattered around the unkempt room. All that’s covering him is what looks like someone’s frayed headscarf, which doesn’t make much sense at the moment, but it’s better than nothing. Ace immediately remembers his trademark straw hat, the thing Luffy treasures almost as much as his nakama, and lets his shoulders droop a bit when he sees the battered thing leaning against a wall. At least his hat is unharmed, which is such a desperate, worst-case scenario assurance.

Considering everything, Luffy looks sort of peaceful, like he’s asleep. Until Ace notices the tears still dripping down his face, the blood pooling beneath his inner thighs, the handprints around his throat covered by the Sea Stone chains. And then Ace looks a bit harder, sees the unnaturally pink, tender skin around his little brother’s lips, the outline of teeth in his shoulder, the marks in places that normally would be off-limits in a fight, and–

“Ace-san, you’ll burn someone,” Vivi says gently, gripping his forearm. He hadn’t even noticed his hands were on fire. His gaze remains on his brother’s unconscious form, white-hot flames in his periphery. 

“I plan on it.” 

Zoro makes quick work of the chains with his katana, and he’s careful–more gentle than Ace has ever seen the green-haired man–in freeing Luffy. But his eyes have shadowed with something dark, and it might be the aftereffects of shock, but it looks like his katanas are glowing in fury beside him. 

With every fraternal instinct telling him to, Ace quickly wraps Luffy up in his desert cloak. Chopper observes him unobtrusively, doesn’t have to tell him to mind his brother’s injuries, because the picture they make together is enough. He’ll kill whoever did this. The man responsible is still out there. He stares at Luffy’s unconscious face, the thick bruise of fingers around his skinny neck. 

_ I’ll find him and burn every bone in his body to a crisp. _

Ace remembers them as children, daydreaming about how they would form their own pirate crews. He never would have let Luffy–if Luffy were a controllable force–become a pirate, if he knew  _ this _ is what his future entailed. But getting in the way of Luffy’s ambition is something Ace could never commit to. Even the strongest have a breaking point, and he had just hoped his brother would never reach his. 

Usopp stares at his captain’s prone form with a haunted look in his eye. “Is he–can you treat him, Chopper?” 

Ace somehow wishes Long-Nose hadn’t seen what he did, because he looks about Luffy’s age. He’s almost like another young sibling, as the guy has taken to calling him  _ onii-chan. _ It would have been easier for him–for now, at least–if the extent of Luffy’s injuries was hidden. Ace can practically feel the pain radiating off the sharpshooter’s form, and words of reassurance catch in his throat. Because there are none. 

“Bandages, lots of bandages, and antiseptic ...” Chopper mutters to himself, seemingly unaware of the eyes on him, or perhaps concentrating so hard he can’t acknowledge them. Ace rests Luffy down on a thin mattress in one of the scattered tents, turmoil brewing between concern for his brother and his own desire for justice. It feels wrong how everyone is untouched except Luffy–the kid who says he’s going to be the Pirate King, the kid who smiles ear-to-ear, the kid who always puts his friends before anything else. 

The Straw Hats crowd into the tent. No one has quite relaxed yet, the way they usually do once Luffy has returned to them. There’s something in the air, a heavy silence balancing on each of their shoulders, the kind that will surely take a long time to lift. Luffy’s importance is no longer of his own consequence; it shakes everyone he meets, everyone he loves. Which makes their failure even more tangible. 

Ace watches the reindeer’s steady hooves as he removes the glass from Luffy’s skin, how his large eyes remain focused and determined; the paragon of a respectable doctor. Just looking at Luffy’s state is enough to make the Whitebeard pirate shake with rage. He wonders how Chopper stays calm, untempted by anger, and it washes over Ace like a subtle breeze in the summertime. There’s so much faith put in Luffy; they can’t afford losing him to a lust for revenge. 

Ace wonders if there will be scars. Hopes there won’t be. 

His brother has been through enough–he certainly doesn’t deserve a reminder of this cruelty every time he looks at his reflection. 

* * *

It is not long before the screams echo through the camp, vibrating deep in the fresh night air. 

The bounty hunter–a stout, grizzled man–writhes in the sand, bound by ropes.  _ Who tied him up? _ Ace wonders vaguely, but his thoughts are distracted by the slick blood pooling at the man’s groin. 

Zoro’s work, undoubtedly. Ace feels a rush of respect for the swordsman, who currently looks like he’s trying to decide the most painful way to end a person’s life. As the group surrounds them, Sanji forces the bounty hunter to stand against the dying tree he’s bound to. 

“You’re in for a world of pain, dear customer,” he grits, voice a dangerous baritone, and the blatant lack of the word  _ shitty _ lets Ace gauge how angry the cook must be. With one fell swoop, Sanji ducks down and slams a slender leg against the man’s ankle. He screams as a loud  _ crack _ reverberates through the darkness, and the cook doesn’t stop there. He pulls his cigarette from his lips and digs it into the man’s stubble, growling sharply. 

“You fall to your knees and I’ll break the other one.” 

The bounty hunter freezes in pain, barely processing the blond’s words. He grips the tree for stability, shifting his weight off his bruising, rotund ankle. “Y-You’re Straw Hat’s crew… how the Hell did you escape?” The man asks nervously, confused, looking like an overweight deer in the headlights as the realization that  _ Yes, he’s utterly underestimated these pirates  _ hits his microscopic brain. 

Zoro steps in, the green of his eyes shining like freshly cut glass. He says nothing, watches as the sweat builds up on the bounty hunter’s forehead. Ace is righteously impressed that the swordsman warrants such a reaction simply by standing there. He slowly unsheathes Wado Ichimonji–eyes never leaving his target–and lifts the blade to the man’s unshaven neck. 

“Beg,” is all he says. 

The bounty hunter chokes on his spit, thick eyebrows furrowing in outrage. “Beg to a  _ pirate? _ ” 

Zoro pushes the blade further, crimson budding at the man’s skin. He whimpers, “You’re serious. Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’ll pay you whatever the fuck you want, just–”

Ace glowers, approaches the man with a flaming fist at his side. “You’re trying to bribe us? After what you did to my little brother?” 

“Little brother? Oh, fuck...” he gulps, fearfully eyeing Ace’s glowing fingers. The Whitebeard pirate lets his ire heat him as fierce as possible, melting off a layer of the bounty hunter’s skin. He screams, writhing against the tree, eyes wide and tortured. 

“Stop! Stop! I’m sorry! I’ll do anything you want! Anything!” 

Devolving into a blubbering mess, the bounty hunter crumples to the ground, wounds bleeding profusely. Ace glances behind him and watches the Straw Hats’ faces closely. Nami and Vivi have been observing the scene with a mix of horror and satisfaction. The sharpshooter’s shoulders are trembling, fists clenched at his sides, and Ace is again reminded of his age. Sanji calls his name softly, face morphing into concern. Usopp can’t watch anymore. 

Sensing the need to wrap things up, the cook lifts a black leg high into the air and snaps the bounty hunter’s neck. The man dies without a sound. It’s a far better death than he deserved, in Ace’s opinion. 

Sanji promptly tucks his hands into his pockets and says, “We’re done here. Let’s go.” 

Ace quickly burns the hunter’s body, letting the fire waft the ashes far away from camp, far away from his brother. No one complains at the demonstration cut short. They walk back to Luffy’s tent, silent and profound. Usopp is crying beside Sanji, who looks just about ready to break down as well. Nami and Vivi keep their chins up, albeit shakily, something Ace is grateful for. He’s never been good with tears. Luffy probably knows that better than anyone. 

When they return to Chopper, he nods at them knowingly. 

“I’ve bandaged his wounds, but he’ll keep bleeding for a while. They need to be replaced every so often.”

“He’ll be all right,” Ace half-asks, half-demands. His brother can bounce back from anything, but admittedly, this is something entirely different from a bruised ego after a fight gone wrong. Ace lets his fists cool down a bit more. “He will.” 

Chopper glances at Luffy, then meets the elder brother’s eyes. “Since he’s rubber, I assumed he would heal faster. But the Sea Stone chains took that away. He won’t bounce back like he normally does.”

“We’ll just have to see when he wakes up,” Zoro says to the group, settling down in the corner of the tent. He crosses his arms and locks a firm eye on his captain. Ace knows he’ll stay that way all night, from the looks of it. The rest of the crew eventually do the same, and nobody complains about how crowded it is, or how cold it’s getting, they simply are. 

Ace just hopes that will be enough.

* * *

Vivi awakens before everyone the next morning, gently shifting Nami’s head from her lap onto Luffy’s mattress. She yawns quietly, eyes locked on the flap of the tent, and sneaks outside.

_ I wonder how Carue is doing... _

The princess gazes out into the desert; it’s so quiet and peaceful, one would never guess violence was possible in such a tranquil place. 

_ Poor Luffy-san _ , she thinks, clenching her jaw. 

At a time like this, it’s hard to think of her eroding country when one of her friends is in such peril. But she needs Luffy, she needs him to recover for her, for Ace, for his nakama. She saw it in their eyes yesterday: Luffy has to overcome this, and they’re going to make sure he does.

It’s also during times like these that Vivi wonders: _Why? Luffy-san has never done anything worthy of torture._ Honestly, she finds herself forgetting he’s a pirate sometimes, considering how they’ve been portrayed all her life. He’s kind, he’s friendly, and he’s helping her save Alabasta. His entire crew, for nothing certain in return. 

She grounds herself in the knowledge that it’s just another injustice upon an innocent person. That’s all she’s been seeing lately, and it’s eating her up inside. Vivi doesn’t have enough hands to help everyone, though she wishes she did, and now that Luffy is in that tent beaten within an inch of his life ... 

It’s too much. So she sucks in a deep breath, steadies her shoulders, and exhales. Just one more heartache. 

“Vivi-chan?”

Sanji peeks his rumpled head of blond hair out of the tent flap, eyeing the princess in concern. “Are you all right?” 

She flushes, biting her lip. “Ah, Sanji-san ...”

Stepping out into the morning air, he looks her up and down, curly eyebrow furrowing. “You must be cold,” he says in a tone suggesting he’d certainly grab another jacket at her whim. 

The sun is just barely breaching the horizon, casting a thin shadow on the desert floor. Vivi returns her gaze to the desert, cradling her elbows in her hands. Sanji walks over to the princess, losing his balance for a moment in the sand. 

Vivi takes another deep breath, silent and burdened. 

“Don’t worry. Our captain is stronger than a caveman. He’ll pull through,” the cook says, voice smooth and confident, sparking his lighter. Sanji knows she disapproves of his smoking habit, so he doesn’t pull out a cigarette. Vivi watches the flame flicker in the breeze. 

She hesitates. “But, those injuries–” 

Sanji clicks his lighter shut. 

“He knew what he was signing up for, Vivi-chan. We all did, when we decided to become pirates. It’s not an easy lifestyle. You risk your life, you get hurt. But I’ve never once seen our captain regret it. He’s strong. Stronger than all of us, although he can be a bit thick-headed sometimes,” Sanji chuckles, and Vivi’s heart lightens.

“Thank you, Sanji-san.” 

He grins at her, and together, they walk back to the tent. 


	4. Chapter 4

By the time the red sun has balanced on the horizon, Zoro is dragging three giant desert lizards back to camp. The meat should last the group a while, and if his captain wakes up, hopefully _less_ than a while. The swordsman kept the tents in view so as to not get lost–being alone for miles and miles of vast sand-covered mountains is definitely not his ideal death. 

Admittedly, Zoro can’t decide whether he truly wishes to be alone, or if he _has_ to be alone, for everyone’s sake. He’s never one to lose his temper in front of the group, not even while exacting revenge on the bounty hunters. But that was then. Right now, Zoro profoundly wants to cut something up, but there aren’t any trees, he’s killed every animal that’s come within a mile radius, and the growing heat is draining all his remaining energy. It doesn’t help all he can do now is worry about his captain, with no way to help other than killing a few lizards out in the desert.

And it’s so clear that Luffy is _very far_ from fine at the moment, because as the swordsman steps into camp, Luffy doesn’t bounce out of his tent and cheer: _Oh, Zoro! You brought breakfast!_

Instead it’s the love cook; _Sanji_ for now, since the man isn’t exactly on Zoro’s shit list at the moment. He’s too tired to fight with his crewmates–a knot in his stomach tells him that things aren’t going to be normal for a while anyway. 

“Drop ‘em by the rock slabs over there,” Sanji drawls as he approaches, lazily smoking a cigarette outside the tent. Zoro does as told, mildly amused how the rock slabs are like pebbles in comparison to the lizards. It’ll be like cooking an elephant in a frying pan. Sanji walks over to the fresh meat and eyes it suspiciously. He puts one hand on his chin, using the other to poke the rough, patchy lizard skin. 

“Not many giant lizards in East Blue. Ah, Hell, I’ll find some way to cook these. Good work.” 

Zoro merely nods and ducks into Luffy’s tent. Surrounding his bed are Nami, Usopp, and Chopper, who is quietly trying to check on Luffy’s wounds so as to not wake them. The princess leans against one of the support beams, sipping her canteen. 

“Zoro-san, where have you been?” Vivi asks kindly when he catches her eye.

“Hunting,” is all he replies with, settling cross-legged on the floor at Luffy’s bed. Chopper hasn’t turned to face him, but he looks like he’s concentrating, so Zoro leaves him be. Not that he isn’t staunchly curious whether his captain has healed yet. 

The swordsman honestly can’t tell if anything has changed overnight. He catches a glimpse of Luffy’s battered, darkening face as Chopper replaces his old bandages, and knows it’s going to look a lot worse before it gets any better. It’s just painful to see on Luffy of all people, because no matter how strong his captain is, Zoro feels there is a limit to what he should suffer. Still, it’s unavoidable in a world of pirates, and should not be taken lightly. Pain can make one stronger, or break them down, and Zoro is firmly bound to the former. When he was a pirate hunter, Zoro was not inclined to feel easy sympathy, but things have changed; now his mind aches to the rhythm of the words: _But it’s Luffy. He’s my captain._ And the ineffable, _I love him._

Zoro has obtained a tenacious sort of empathy; the kind on the floor of a dojo, face covered by a white sheet, sudden and unexpected and very, very far away. Because he had not seen Kuina fall down the stairs, and he hadn’t heard the snap of her neck, regardless of how many of his nights were plagued by the sound. And now, Luffy’s suffering is simply another burden in the span of a lifetime that he must learn to shoulder. But his captain won’t even have to ask; Zoro will be at his side. 

Snapping him from his thoughts, Chopper abruptly speaks up. 

“Has Luffy ever been this injured before?” 

The swordsman frowns. There’s no good answer since he hasn’t known Luffy as long as the rest of his crewmates liked to think. He wishes his captain could answer Chopper for himself, but even if he were conscious, he probably would have changed the subject. Luffy tends to do that whenever something makes him uncomfortable; often so surreptitiously that it takes a trained ear to notice. 

It also takes being with Luffy a while to understand that some things do cross the line, some things do get under his skin. And for Zoro, his position as vice-captain isn’t about honoring his pride to uphold a promise of nakamaship anymore. A new objective has emerged. The Going Merry is his new home. The Straw Hats are his new family. The swordsman is like a comet in Luffy’s gravitational pull, too close to leave, too independent to stay. And yet, he studies the intricacies of his captain’s character with a bewildered sort of interest. It makes Zoro wonder about Luffy’s childhood. What shaped him to be who he is? Or is he really so similar to when he was younger, like Ace once mentioned? 

He focuses back on Chopper’s questioning gaze. “I’ve noticed that he heals quickly once he gets some sleep. Probably has something to do with the Gomu Gomu fruit.” 

The blue-nosed reindeer sets the bandages down from his small hooves. He locks a lachrymose stare onto Luffy, and Zoro finds himself touched at how attached Chopper is becoming to their captain this early in his pirate life. Though if he thinks about it, aren’t they all? Luffy has them wrapped around his little finger. 

“It’s just ... I haven’t been in the crew long enough to know when he’ll wake up. I don’t know what’s considered normal for someone with his abilities.” 

“That’s all right. Just keep doing what you can.” 

Chopper nods, determined. 

Zoro decides, then, that he really does approve of their new crewmate.

An annoying, bootlicker voice sings from outside the tent, “Vivi-chan, Nami-san! I’ve prepared your breakfast!” And then a rapid shift in tone, “Oi! You guys, get your asses out here!” 

Nami stirs from her spot at Luffy’s bed, yawns, and rubs her eyes. “Oh, it’s morning ...”

From the other end, Usopp groans and buries his head in the blankets. Then, suddenly remembering _why_ he’s there, he jolts up. The sharpshooter looks back and forth between Luffy’s bandaged face, Chopper, and the tent flap. It would have been comedic if he didn’t seem so wrecked. 

“Oi, Chopper, is he ...” Usopp trails off, losing himself.

The blue-nosed reindeer smiles at him, visibly less worried after his and Zoro’s conversation. “He’s healing, by the looks of it. I replaced all his bandages so he should be okay until the evening.” 

“Do you think he’s hungry?” Nami asks, then slaps her forehead. “When is Luffy _not_ hungry?” 

The atmosphere has lightened from last night, something Zoro is more grateful for than he lets on. But it’s still too quiet, what with Luffy incapacitated. The crew piles outside, met with a steaming mountain of lizard meat. Admittedly, Zoro is surprised the cook managed to make such ugly creatures smell appetizing.

“Haven’t decided what to call this dish yet, but enjoy!” Sanji grins, pouring the ladies some water. 

“This is amazing, Sanji-kun!” Nami praises, eyebrows raised. 

“Ah, Nami-san’s love is like Cupid’s arrow piercing my heart,” the cook swoons. 

Zoro holds back a grumble, rolling his eyes. _Yes, some things never change, no matter the circumstance._

“Chopper, I made you a vegetarian soup. You’ve been looking after Luffy all night, so eat up,” Sanji orders gently, noting the reindeer’s bagged eyes. 

“Thanks, Sanji,” he grins sheepishly. 

Once they finish eating, it’s officially mid-afternoon. Luffy still hasn’t woken up, something that’s bothering all of them, but the swordsman is confident that they just need to wait some more. There’s a sort of wordless agreement in the air: nobody is allowed to take off before their captain wakes up, not even the princess. Usually, it hasn’t stopped them before, but the situation is different. A normal scene would be Luffy doing something reckless and finding himself in the middle of nowhere; in that case, the swordsman would naturally just wait until his idiot captain found his way back to the group. 

But now, Luffy is being subjected to a tremendous amount of pain. Zoro has always wondered what goes on in the guy’s head, but right now it’s less of a curiosity and more of a precaution. Because if his captain is a danger to anyone, it’s himself. And the swordsman is prepared to pull Luffy out of whatever dark corner he’s trapped in now. They all are. Their captain is hurting, so here they will stay. 

It doesn’t help that _here_ is now blazing hot outside. Zoro naturally ends up in the coolest spot for a nap, which happens to be Luffy’s tent. It’s where most of them have been orbiting, even if there are a dozen shadier places to sleep. As he drifts off, he can hear two voices murmuring by the bed. 

“I think he moved.”

“No, he definitely didn’t.” 

“See, look! His chest!”

“He’s _breathing_ , you dolt.” 

The swordsman opens an eye; Sanji and Usopp are lounging next to Luffy, staring him like some kind of enigma. Zoro snorts through his nose, alerting the two.

The pair gape at him. “Oh, Zoro! You’re here too!”

His eyebrow twitches as he gripes, “I’ve been here longer than you!” 

“You look scary, Zoro-kun. Lurking in the shadows like that,” Usopp utters, squinting hard at him in scrutiny. 

Zoro doesn’t reply, eyeing Luffy’s still form, save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Sanji and Usopp quickly return to their aimless chatter, a familiar sound in the foreign environment. It’s kind of comforting. The cook and sharpshooter make for an interesting duo; Usopp’s really the only guy in the crew Sanji gives semi-special treatment, after all. 

Just as Zoro begins to drift off, the sound of whooshing sand in the distance, another voice emerges from the low drone of conversation. It’s so faint that Zoro wonders if he’s dreaming, but the noise is confirmed by Usopp as he quickly blinks awake.

“Luffy?”

Their captain shifts slightly in bed, and Zoro can see one of his hands slipping to hang off the mattress. His fingers brush against the thin bed frame, like he’s grasping for something to steady himself, even though his body is perfectly static. Zoro’s hands immediately drop to his waist, but there’s no visible threat, and his katanas are resting in the corner of the tent. There’s a shift from that monotone expression that’s been painted on Luffy’s face for far too many hours; his eyebrows furrow together, his lips curl up like a child about to cry, and Zoro scoots closer. 

“Can you hear me, Captain?” 

Sanji stands up swiftly, brushing the sand off his knees. “I’ll get Chopper.” 

Usopp reaches a hand out to grasp Luffy’s. Zoro watches as his captain slowly squeezes back, and the sharpshooter’s eyes fill with abundant tears. He’s trying to keep it together, but it’s Luffy, and nothing is ever easy when it comes to Luffy. The gesture is simple, yet full of so much trust that Zoro can’t seem to pry his eyes away. For many of their differences, it’s one thing he and Usopp undoubtedly share: love for their captain. 

Chopper comes rushing in, _Doctor-mode_ officially on. Sanji’s shadow by the tent entrance grows larger as Vivi and Nami join him. It’s clear they don’t want to be a crowd. The first mate vaguely wonders where Ace has gone–he hasn’t seen him since last night. 

“Luffy?” Chopper asks gently, but firm. Surprising their captain with loud noises probably isn’t the best course of action right now. 

Usopp clutches Luffy’s hand with both of his. “Hey, we’re all here. We got you out of there, Luffy.” 

Their captain trembles slightly, lifting his eyelids hesitantly to look at his nakama. He tries to inhale, a cacophony of coughs erupting from his throat. This evidently causes him pain, because he clutches his ribs and exhales slowly from his nose. 

“Take it easy,” Chopper tells him. 

Luffy blinks, face a mess of discomfort, and he eyes his swordsman like he’s grown a second head. He then looks around at Usopp and Chopper, finally relaxing his shoulders. Their captain opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, and he’s gone pale with either nausea or something akin to realization. 

“Luffy, don’t strain yourself. Your throat’s gonna hurt for a while.” 

Chopper reaches a hoof toward Luffy’s shoulder to help him sit up, but the raven-haired pirate flinches back harshly, eyes wide and panicked. It’s as if the world started rotating backwards, because there’s no way that’s _not_ going to haunt Zoro for the rest of the week, that look on his captain’s face. Like that simple movement flung him someplace else, a place where hellfire burns and the sky bleeds crimson, where friends and foes become indistinguishable. Where fear is the one thing that can be counted upon. As if taken aback by his own reaction, Luffy grimaces at his hands in shame. 

“I’m sorry,” Chopper says quietly, the weight of his words obviously coming from a deeper place. Luffy tears his gaze roughly from his hands and shakes his head at his doctor, as if trying to convey, _You are not to blame._

“Oi, Luffy, you want something to eat?” Sanji asks from outside the tent, breaking the tension. “We’ve got grilled lizard, courtesy of Marimo.” 

“Watch it.”

Their captain adjusts himself in bed, wincing as he tremulously smiles past the bruising on his face. _He’s probably wondering where his brother is,_ Zoro thinks. He almost wants someone to lie and announce that Ace is outside waiting for him, but that will probably just cause more pain than it’s worth. However, the swordsman is resolute in his judgement of Fire Fist. He’s undoubtedly gone off to do something worthwhile. 

“Yosh, I’m coming in,” Sanji responds in an instant, arms full of crispy meat, and Zoro is mildly amused at the implication that the cook was waiting outside with plates of food at Luffy’s whim. Kind of like a butler. 

Sanji grins with the confidence of a chef. “Bon appetit, Captain.” 

_Let us help you._

Luffy eats like a restless bird, the glint in his eyes sharpening as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. He only gets through about a fifth of what Sanji brings, but the cook raises no complaints. Instead of bringing the plates outside to wash, he sets them down on the floor and leans up against the bed frame. Nami and Vivi have joined them as well, and the tent is overcrowded, but Luffy seems relieved they’re all safe.

It’s obvious how painful it is when their captain tries to talk, so the group chats aimlessly with each other while also (not so covertly) trying to provide a distraction from his daunting muteness. There is clearly something the raven-haired boy wants to say, and he keeps glancing at Vivi like she’s about to catch fire. The princess eventually notices his intense staring and gently smiles back at him. 

“Luffy-san, it’s all right. Your wellbeing is what’s most important right now. I appreciate your support.” 

Their captain frowns at his hands in frustration, discontent. It eventually gets much quieter, the chatter fading into a low murmur, and they all start to settle down for the night. Chopper hops over to Luffy, whispers something that Zoro doesn’t quite catch, and the raven-haired boy studies his doctor fondly before nodding and slowly laying down. He hisses in pain the entire time, eyes glazed with anxiety and paranoia, which just amplifies the uneasy feeling Zoro has churning in his gut. 

_Sweet dreams._

* * *

“You should learn to better cover your tracks.”

Axel tenses up, nervously searching the rock formations overhead. His entire trip so far has made his muscles cramp from stress–and it’s not even because of the unpredictable Alabastan climate or ridiculously dangerous species roaming free. No, it’s the guilt and fear mixing together into a soup of despair, writhing inside of him incessantly. That’s what got him.

So it’s, once again, _unsurprising_ when the dread hits and his eyes catch a figure crouching overhead, dark shadows cast on his face from the intense sunlight. The figure’s pupils glow as hot as coals.

It’s terrifying. 

“Who might you be?” Axel chokes out, throat as dry as the vast desert around him. 

“You should have asked that question before you hurt my little brother.” 

_Shit._ This must be one of the Straw Hat pirates, here to finish the job they inevitably began back at camp. He knew there was no escape–the minute he and his comrades captured those people, Axel knew they would go to Hell and back for their captain–but who could blame him for trying?

“Wait, wait! You have to let me explain,” Axel pleads, his last and only resort. 

The fiery figure looming above him pauses. 

“You’ve got one minute before I burn you to a crisp.”

Axel pales, bag sliding out of his white-knuckled grip. Stepping out of the cart with his hands above him, the former bounty hunter meets Fire Fist Ace’s eyes. Oddly enough, the man doesn’t look as terrifying as he anticipated. Perhaps it was because he’s seen him scared out of his mind for his brother's life back at camp. Or maybe it’s because Fire Fist doesn’t really seem like a demonic type; there’s a certain air of justice surrounding him, like he’s only here to do what must be done. 

“Your brother... is Straw Hat?”

“The one and only,” the man answers humorlessly. 

Axel drops to his knees and shoves his face into the sand. Biting his lip in remorse, he cries out, “I’m so sorry!” 

Fire Fist stares down at him with a burning sort of coldness.

“And why should that matter now?”

The former bounty hunter digs his fingers into the sand. He lets remorse slide into his voice, absently relieved that his typical apathetic tone hasn’t dampered his ability to grovel. 

“You don’t have to forgive anything. I’ll even accept my fate if you want to kill me, Fire Fist. Although I took part in your brother’s capture, Kēji knocked me out when I suggested we leave Straw Hat alone. He took the torture too far; I never wanted your brother to suffer as much as he did. So when I woke up, I tied Kēji to a tree. I figured you guys would be too angry to hear me out when you all escaped, so I left.” 

The Whitebeard commander considers him for a short time, letting the words sink in fully. He looks like he’s holding himself back, or rather, Straw Hat himself is holding him back. Axel holds his breath, waiting for his skin to inevitably be melted off, but the pain never comes. Fire Fist’s silhouette turns toward the descending sunset. 

“I’m doing this for Luffy. I know if my little brother were here, he’d forgive you. That’s just the way he is,” the freckled man declares with a hint of pride in his voice. “Luffy’s got a good heart, you see. So I’ll only say this once: You get out of here and never show your face to him. And if _I_ ever see you again, I will show you no mercy.”

Axel almost cries out in relief. 

_This is a surprise_ , he thinks. _A pirate showing mercy to a bounty hunter._

“Now leave!” Fire Fist shouts, and he doesn’t have to say it twice. 

* * *

Chopper has just finished taking Luffy’s temperature, a heavy cloud darkening his face. The reindeer straightens, like his spine is being pulled toward the sky by a fishing rod, and turns slightly to face Usopp and Nami in the tent. 

“Ah, you guys... I need to talk to Luffy alone. Can you give us a minute?” 

Luffy perks up in bed, smiling weakly around his bandages. “Sure, Chopper.”

“He wasn’t asking _you_ , dummy.” Usopp waves a hand in front of him, an unimpressed sigh on his lips. He stands up to leave with Nami, but as he reaches the tent flap: “The brave Usopp-sama will protect this camp! Fear not, both of you. My ten thousand followers are prepared to blast away any and all enemies that dare approacheth!” 

“Yes, yes,” Nami chuckles sardonically, pulling the sharpshooter by the ear. “Let’s allow our doctor to work in peace.” 

“Ow. Let go.”

The wind changes as they disappear behind the flap, and Chopper only addresses Luffy when he’s certain nobody is going to barge in. So far, everyone’s been quite out of character, considering they’re actually respecting the boundaries set around their captain. 

“What is it, Chopper? I want to get out of this bed already...” The raven-haired pirate whines, sinking deeper into his pillow with a forlorn expression. 

The blue-nosed doctor reminds himself that he’s treating a patient right now. He’s worked on lots of people from Drum Kingdom–total strangers–but never a person such as Luffy. The closest he got to treating someone who meant anything to him was Doctorine and Doctor Hiruluk. And since he’s never had nakama before, the possibility of error presses down on his furry body, despite his years of medical experience. If any more harm comes to his captain while he’s recovering, Chopper knows it will weigh on his shoulders forever. 

_I have to be honest with him right now._

First, the doctor pulls out a bottle of small pills with one hoof. There’s enough for two weeks; hopefully by then what Luffy is beginning to contract will fade away like a bad dream. Chopper collects his thoughts before addressing his captain, earnestly staring him in the eye. 

“Luffy, this is the medication I’ve prescribed you for the next couple weeks. I tested your blood before, and if you don’t want to get any bad diseases, you have to take it. The symptoms might make you feel sick for a while, but I promise it’ll go away with some time.” 

His captain looks at him through something unreadable, but remains silent. There’s no comforting smile of reassurance, the kind Chopper always falls victim to whenever Luffy catches his eye. Nor is it a testament to pain or discomfort. It simply is. The reindeer wants to know what’s going through his patient’s head as a doctor should, just as much as he wants to decipher Monkey D. Luffy: the mysterious net Chopper has found himself caught in. And it’s clear he’s not the only one. There must be different reasons why his nakama choose to follow this captain, of all people, out of all the vast oceans of the world. 

But no matter how extraordinarily divided Luffy seems to be from other humans, the physician’s heart inside Chopper clings to the truth of mortality. Wounds bleed, punches bruise, diseases kill. And Luffy is not exempt from any of those things in this life, just as he is not immune from trauma. 

The reindeer takes a deep breath and continues. “The stitches I gave you will be absorbed by your body in a few weeks, but it’s gonna hurt to walk around for a while. You can take a hot bath whenever to alleviate the pain. I’ve got painkillers for you as well until you’re healed. If you start bleeding again, please let me know! As your doctor, I’m telling you to take it easy for at least a week. Don’t move your shoulder abruptly either or the stitches will come loose. The cuts and bruises on your body aren’t too serious, so they’ll go away soon enough,” Chopper finishes professionally, eyes still locked on Luffy’s stoic expression. 

_That was a lot. He must have questions. I haven’t been around very long–surely he doubts my skill?_ Chopper thinks nervously. _What do I do if he doesn’t want to take the medicine? What if he’s too stubborn to open up to me about his injuries, what if–_

“All right,” Luffy says with a single, committed nod. 

The reindeer’s gaze widens, his words suspended in the air like a few stray snowflakes in a blizzard. Luffy just stares back at him with his deep chestnut eyes, and a swell of heartache is building in Chopper’s stomach, rising up to his throat, and he wants to impulsively launch himself into his captain’s arms. 

_Such absolute trust, is this the meaning of nakama?_

Managing to land feet first, Chopper’s speech returns to him as Luffy tilts his head in an amalgam of amusement and confusion. He adjusts himself to sit cross-legged on the floor, pushing aside his medical equipment. 

“Luffy. As your doctor, whatever you say will stay between us. How are you feeling right now?”

Chopper has read about these kinds of cases–Doctorine insisted he learn about everything–despite it being his first. The reindeer doesn’t want to pressure his captain into talking; after all, he’s been notoriously difficult to rein in during everyday conversations. But Chopper needs to know, even if it’s a shot in the dark as to whether Luffy will allow himself to be honest. 

_“Listen up, Chopper. You must treat each injury individually. Understand that burn victims are treated differently than those overcome with the flu. Assault of this nature cannot be managed by medicine alone. A doctor does not simply wrap the wounds! You must see to it that they heal properly!”_

The raven-haired pirate looks down at his hands, flexing them back and forth. He watches the tendons stretch beneath his skin like little rubber bands. Settling them back into his lap, the pirate’s eyes trail off to somewhere indistinct and desolate; a place with no name. Yet Luffy’s voice is somehow so steady that if Chopper didn’t know any better, he’d think the condition of his throat just a few hours ago had been a churlish lie. 

“I’m fine, see?” 

Chopper’s eyebrows furrow in concern. “No, that’s not what I mean.”

_How are you?_

Luffy pulls away minutely, as if someone has just prodded one of his bruises. He lifts a hand to his hat, tugging it toward his chin like a straw shield, and Chopper loses sight of those gentle dark eyes. A tempest has arrived, sudden and ill-boding, and Luffy is soon to be cast to the mercy of its billows. It’s like Chopper is losing his captain twice over right here on some departed bounty hunter’s mattress, in this musty tent, in the foreign Alabastan desert. 

_Is Luffy trying to be strong for us, even now?_

Chopper does his best to firmly anchor his voice. “Luffy... if you want to talk about it–”

His captain cuts him off with a concise, “No.” 

There’s a slight tremble in that single syllable, as sudden and wavering as heartburn, and Chopper can see now that Luffy truly wants nothing to do with what happened to him. To Doctorine, that would be entitled a fool’s delusion. Chopper never agreed with that point of view, and it’s become especially clear now that his captain is the one in pain. Not just some ailing stranger in a village he’s been ostracized by. It’s Luffy–a word with so many meanings that one would think there surely must be some negative connotations to it. But no, all that word incites is contentment within Chopper. 

“All right. But if you change your mind, I’ll always be here to listen,” says the blue-nosed reindeer, and as Luffy’s vagabond gaze returns home, the eclipse finally ending, he adds a devout: “You’re my captain.”

Luffy smiles softly, a hoarse string of _shi-shi-shi_ dancing from his lips, and Chopper is pulled into the current of his laughter. The sky clears, the waves still, and the sight is peaceful: the two of them, giggling over nothing in particular. The reindeer allows himself to be at ease for a moment. 

“Thanks, Doctor-san.”

  
 _I’m going to make sure you get through this,_ Chopper vows resolutely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it possible for me to write hurt without comfort? Probably not.

“Sanji, I need you to avoid cooking anything spicy for the next week. Lots of fresh fruit and vegetables, and remind Luffy to drink more water as well.” 

“Copy that,” Sanji affirms to Chopper, sighing out a breathful of smoke. If no one is eating something specific, their captain won’t feel left out; a healthy lack of temptation is what the doctor is aiming for. It’s more logical than it is considerate, really. Luffy has eaten things that nobody else in the crew could stand to smell, much less taste. 

Usopp is currently sketching something in the sand with a stick, grinning widely as he commends the reindeer. “You’re doing great, Doc. We couldn’t ask for a better monster on our crew.” 

“Shut up... you think complimenting me makes me happy at all, idiot?” Chopper swoons, then abruptly stops himself, transforming into his human hybrid form. “WHO ARE YOU CALLING A MONSTER?”

Usopp claps his face with his hands as the Devil Fruit user towers over him. “AH! SOMEBODY HELP!”

As the two start wrestling, a tall, cloaked figure approaches the tent. 

Usopp and Chopper scream in terror upon the person’s arrival. Sanji raises his eyebrows, waving a hand in greeting.

“Welcome back, Ace.” 

Usopp exhales in relief, shaking an angry fist at the Whitebeard pirate. “Don’t scare us like that, onii-chan!” 

Ace shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I’d like to talk to Luffy, if you all don’t mind.” 

Hearing the conversation through the thin tent fabric, Zoro slips outside, green eyes locked onto Ace’s. He looks somewhat relieved that the elder brother is back, and swiftly beckons the rest of his nakama from the tent. 

“Oi, you guys.” 

Vivi and Nami pause their card game with Luffy, promising him they’ll come back to finish later. The young pirate’s eyes trail up from his place in bed to the yawning tent flap. 

The first thing Ace notices is how utterly small he seems. The Whitebeard commander has gotten so used to seeing battle wounds that he hardly blinks at scars or blood or warfare now. But it’s different when it’s someone he knows. Luffy looks like he did three years ago, waving goodbye from the green shore as his brother sets sail for the first time. Except with more blood and bruising and evidence of torture. 

“You don’t look so great, Lu.” 

Luffy smiles widely at him, points at a dirty dish on the floor, and gives an enthusiastic thumbs up. It looks painful behind all the swelling and bandages just to move his face, let alone grin. 

_ Ah, so we’re doing this, _ Ace yields, playing along for now. 

“I’m impressed. You’ve got quite the cook on your crew. In fact, they all seem like good people.”

Luffy nods intently.  _ Aren’t they interesting? _ It’s almost unnerving how well his little brother can hide the pain behind his eyes. 

Ace sinks into the side of the bed, grin sliding off his face as they settle into a heavy silence. Soon enough, Luffy’s gaze flicks up at him like he’s about to get scolded or something, which just seems wrong because he’s never listened to his big brother anyway. Luffy’s face is burning red, he’s ashamed, and the unfairness of it makes the older pirate want to burn that bastard bounty hunter a hundred times over. 

“Luffy,” he says, voice rich with assurance. 

_ Can’t lose my temper in front of Luffy, God knows he’ll take it the wrong way. He can be such a little idiot sometimes. _

Luffy meets Ace’s eyes, something ancient inside of him crumbling away. The trench his brother has dredged for his nakama–the strong resolve he’s been trying to maintain–caves into the unswept floor. Dirt and sand and grief come crashing inward, immersing them up to their necks. 

The levy has broken; the castle has fallen; and Monkey D. Luffy has finally buried himself. Like a withering leaf in the breeze, he slowly leans into Ace, forehead pressing gently against his shoulder. The freckled pirate wraps a strong arm around his brother’s slim frame, eyes lined with sadness.

“Oh, Luffy. Don’t cry.” 

It’s meant to be comforting, but Luffy only seems to shake harder at his words. It’s been years since the Whitebeard pirate has seen his brother shed real tears. Ace wonders if Luffy also feels younger here and now, leaning against his chest like when they were kids. Seventeen years of laughter, ambition, and a damn hard struggle to reach this point in time, and Ace doesn’t want to comprehend it. 

“I–I don’t understand,” Luffy exhales harshly, the weight of the last few days pushing relentlessly against his throat. A waterfall cascades down the ridges of his face, voice cracking as he repeats, “I don’t understand.” 

Ace wishes there was something more to burn other than tumbleweed and driftwood out in the desert, something that could reverse time so this never happened. Even more, he wishes it was himself alone with the bounty hunters, now confined to this bed with a myriad of injuries, and pain blooms with the fact that Luffy is finally saying what they all feel:  _ I don’t understand. Why has this happened?  _

Has the straw hat-clad pirate’s endless supply of luck finally run out? Has the tide of the world’s contempt finally reached Luffy’s ankles, dragging him under? With Porchemy’s torture and Sabo’s death, Ace feels the suffering should have ended there; Luffy has had his fill. The pirate has never been one to focus on anything other than his ambition, his family, his nakama. All for some bastard to come along and use him for his own sadistic, lust-driven urges. It’s nothing short of cruel and unfair. 

Luffy clutches his eyelids shut, hands digging into the sheets as he mumbles, “I’m so weak… useless...” 

_ No, no, no. Stop right now.  _

Ace shifts, gently placing both of his hands on his brother’s narrow shoulders. Luffy doesn’t look up, just stares down at his fists like they’ve just mutinied against his own body. As the son of the Devil, Gol D. Roger, Ace knows what it’s like to feel weak and useless. So he tries to remember what he told himself back then, once he grew a spine and stopped wallowing in his own self-hatred. “Luffy, listen up. You’re not weak or useless. Remember when we fought as kids? You tried so hard to win against me and Sabo.”

Luffy closes his eyes, sinking further into himself. His voice is quiet and resigned as he argues, “But I lost.” 

_ Every single time. But that’s not the point.  _

“No, you never gave up.”

The younger pirate’s spirit becomes a faltering hearth in the coals; Ace can tell their viewpoints are contrasting, and it’s starting to frustrate Luffy. He sits up straighter in bed, eyebrows furrowing deeply. “That’s different, Ace. I–I really couldn’t move. I couldn’t stop anything.”

Ace shoots back, “It wasn’t a fair fight. And even if it had been, those guys were psychopaths.”

Luffy’s fists clench; he’s not trying to hide his anger anymore. Even with bandages all over his face, his little brother can still manage to look furious. Ace doesn’t stop there, he knows he’s pushing hard where it hurts, but Luffy often needs to be shoved–as opposed to _ lightly nudged _ –in the right direction. 

“It’s not your fault, Lu–”

The bedridden pirate slams his fists against the mattress. 

“NO!”

Luffy has pulled back from his brother like  _ he’s _ the one who might burn Ace, sweat dripping down the side of his cheek. His teary eyes search the Whitebeard commander for something, anything other than worry and concern, almost like he’s waiting for Ace to give up on him, to stop caring. 

“It  _ is _ my fault! None of this would have happened if I was stronger! It could have been one of my nakama, or you, who got hurt! And it would have been because of me! And I... I can’t stop feeling him touching me. I don’t understand. Vivi showed me in Drum Island that you have a better chance at reasoning with people if you speak before using your fists. But no matter what I said, he... he wouldn’t stop. I don’t know why I feel so scared, my stupid hands just won’t stop shaking. How can my crew follow me if I can’t even get my own body under control?” 

Ace sits back once he’s done, leaning his weight on his wrists. He had a feeling that’s what his brother had going on in his head, but hearing it aloud doesn’t make it any better. “No one blames you for what happened. Because it’s  _ not your fault. _ And your nakama, the princess, and me–we all know that.”

Luffy sniffles, eyes trailing down from Ace’s sincere face to his own trembling hands. After a few deep breaths, collecting himself as best he can, he softly asks, “How do I stop s–shaking?”

Ace takes it as a victory since he’s been grasping for one all damn week. As long as he can help Luffy as much as he can, Ace hopes his crew will pick up the remaining pieces he himself cannot. He slowly places a hand on Luffy’s shoulder, commanding his body a gentle grip, as his little brother apprehensively meets his eyes. Ace nods at him meaningfully, tries to keep the pain from edging into his voice. 

“Keep breathing like that. Think about what makes you happy.”

It’s such simple advise that Ace feels almost silly offering it. But from experience, when you’re sinking into a hole you can’t get out of, it’s easy to forget the simple things. Luffy heeds his words, sucking in a few more slow breaths, careful of the injuries to his chest. Ace wonders how much it hurts to breathe with that kind of damage. Luffy closes his eyes, loops a hand around Ace’s wrist. 

“You remember the tree house the three of us built?” 

Ace wasn’t expecting that, but it does feel in-character for his little brother. The memory makes his lips quirk upward–he wishes he could go back to that time.  _ You, me, and Sabo. _

“Yeah, I do.” 

Luffy tucks his head down slightly, deeply furrowing his eyebrows in what Ace assumes is concentration. Without smiling, his little brother says,“That makes me happy.” 

Ace blinks past the tears in his eyes. There’s no way in Hell Luffy is going to see him cry. Not here, not now. But just in case Luffy opens his eyes to see the wrecked look on his face,  _ just _ for assurance that he won’t have to, Ace leans forward and wraps both his arms around his brother. Luffy’s shivering hands dig into the skin of his back, and Ace tries to use his Devil’s Fruit to make his body warmer. It’s the least he can do. 

Tucking Luffy’s raven-black head of hair beneath his chin, and closing his own eyes to allow a few tears to fall free, Ace whispers,

“Me too.”


	6. Chapter 6

Luffy doesn’t want to sleep. 

It’s late in the evening, and his nakama are resting either inside his tent or under the desert stars. The breeze is shallow in the air, softly whooshing the tent flap in a monotonous back and forth motion. It’s such a demure sound, like the subtle caress of grass blades in a meadow, but Luffy shudders whenever he hears it, like the wind will somehow lash out and bite him. The young captain needs to be alone, not for his own sake, but for his nakama. If they see him so terrified of nothing but the wind against the tent and the darkness blanketing the sky, then how can he call himself their captain anymore? 

Suddenly, Kēji’s fingernails are scratching around his throat again, cutting off his lungs, and there’s nowhere to hide. His voice slithers through Luffy’s ears like a serpent, unbridled and lecherous. 

_“Do you want your nakama to see you like this, Straw Hat?”_

The young pirate jolts upright in bed, even though it lurches a wave of pain through too many places. He moves to wrap his arms around his torso, a subconscious effort at comforting himself, but the touch feels foreign. Luffy pulls back, trying to swallow the lump caught in his throat. He can’t just sit here forever, staring at the tent wall, struggling for air like a fish out of water. But the pirate wouldn’t be able to walk away even if he tried; he’s confined to a stranger’s bed, Doctor’s orders, and it’s starting to feel like a coffin, musty and ill-fit for life. 

_Breathe. Just breathe._

Luffy inhales slowly, pauses for a moment, then exhales. It’s too dark to see much, but the pirate can capture the hushful silhouettes of Nami, Zoro, and Chopper inside the tent. So that must mean Ace, Vivi, Usopp, and Sanji are all sleeping outside. The desire to stand is eating at him like a parasite; he has to get away from this place already. It’s too familiar in all the bad ways. 

_“Should I tell my comrades to open that door right now?”_

The young pirate grits his teeth and buries his head in his knees. His split lower lip has begun to tremble along with the rest of his body, the telltale sign of tears. The shadows in the room have all become one–the outline of Kēji’s form on the sandy floor, ghostly arms outstretching toward Luffy. The inside of his chest feels like it’s about to explode, adrenaline hitting the pirate like lightning. 

_Stop it,_ the mind screams at the heart.

_“Stop! Stop, please!”_

Glass breaks and fire erupts on the side of his face, his shoulder. A rancid tongue scavenges his mouth for something the young captain cannot, does not possess. Teeth tear into his collarbone. Hands wrap around his neck and squeeze. The dirty fingernails sink deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until skin breaks and the taste of iron floods Luffy’s mouth. He can’t breathe. He can’t _breathe_.

_“Is this frightening to you, Straw Hat?”_

The pirate’s body is moving on its own now, with its own purpose. The pain becomes a dull hum in the back of his mind as he rushes out of the tent, almost tripping over someone’s legs in the process. An obsidian sky winks overhead, the cool breeze caressing the sand, and Luffy’s breath thunders in his ears as he runs and runs and runs. Muffled voices rent the air, confusion shifting into alarm, alarm into movement.

“Luffy?”

“Oi, L–Luffy! Wait!”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Luffy-san!”

“Luffy!”

Kēji chases him deep into the desert, the taste of his tongue in Luffy’s mouth unfading and acidic. The sand moves underfoot, like it’s about to swallow him whole. When Luffy’s body can’t go any further, he collapses to the ground, legs finally giving out. He curls himself into a tight ball, clenches his eyes shut like he’s afraid of what he’ll face when he opens them again. The adrenaline has worn away slightly, but fear still courses through Luffy’s body like whitewater. Something slick seeps between his inner thighs. His shoulder aches. Knees tremble. 

“Go away! Leave me alone!” Luffy shouts manically, the sound of shifting sand drawing closer. Tears form as quickly as they fall, and the Earth soaks them up instantly. He digs his fingernails in his hair, hating the split-second in time where they’re not his own hands. “Just stop! Stop, please...” 

“Luffy,” a voice beckons. It’s a refreshing splash of water in the sweltering desert, cool and deep, and the raven-haired pirate immediately wants more of it. Zoro stands close by, lowering himself to a knee at Luffy’s side. 

He chokes, black spots blooming underneath his clenched eyelids. “I can’t make it go away.” 

_Sorry, Zoro. It hurts._

“Open your eyes.” 

Luffy hesitates for a moment, mind thrust back to the shadows chasing him. And then, softly, “Please, Luffy.” 

There’s no demand of: _Captain, you must be stronger._ Nor is there: _The man who hurt you is dead. Now pull yourself together._ The young pirate finds himself inexplicably grateful for that. 

Luffy tethers himself to his swordsman’s steady presence like a ship on the harbor, lifting his head from the sand. When he opens his eyes, they meet a pair of loyal juniper. Roronoa Zoro is looking at him, _really_ looking at him. Anyone else would have gotten nervous under the former pirate hunter’s gaze, as it’s infamously hard-bitten; pirates have said a single glance can pierce as easily as a freshly-sharpened katana. But right now, it’s none of that, it’s _never_ been that. It’s just Zoro looking at Luffy. 

“Do you want to stay here?”

Luffy shifts away, his first mate’s question ringing through the air. _Do I want to stay here in the desert? Or face my nakama after what I just did?_ He subconsciously rests a hand on his own knee, jerking back like he’s been shocked. He opts to rake his fingers through the sand instead; a welcome sensation amidst the vehement clamor in his ears. 

“I... I don’t know.” 

Zoro is silent for a moment, considering the sky above them. The sun is still a long wait away. Settling in the sand beside Luffy, the swordsman closes his lidded eyes and speaks. 

“Talk to me.” 

Luffy chews at the inside of his mouth. He remembers almost biting off his tongue when Kēji hit him. He can feel the skin of his lower lip stinging where it was cut. He can feel everything; every last touch, every last jolt of pain, every last word ringing in his ears.

“I–I can’t.” 

_What do I say? I can’t do this. I can’t, I can’t–_

His first mate’s gaze has returned to Luffy, as the sun returns to the horizon every dawn. Powerful. Inevitable. Zoro, who is fixing all of his attention on his captain as if to keep him from crumbling apart, like the way boulders erode into grains of sand from the wind. Luffy is lost; he’s pulled from the ground into the sky, and he is rising, and rising, the view of his nakama ever shrinking into tiny specks of color. He wants to call out for them badly. 

Zoro does not look away. “This won’t destroy you, Luffy.” 

“It feels like it already has,” the young pirate swallows, lip trembling fiercely. 

“Tell me anyway.”

Luffy can’t even face him, but he opens his mouth to speak, fearful of what might come out. 

“It was like I was back there,” he stumbles gracelessly, “so I ran.” Zoro is quiet, listening intently. Luffy finally turns to look at him, but his eyes still cannot focus on the man beside him. Every time he blinks, his gaze shifts, but he fights through it and asks, almost a whisper, “Have... have you ever been scared like that?”

Zoro shifts in his spot beside Luffy, craning his neck to the sky. A wistful expression crosses his face, and it’s something Luffy isn’t used to seeing on his swordsman. Something tender, soft; it’s immensely comforting. He sucks in a short breath before speaking, as if his memories are the universe and he is a black hole consuming them. 

“Yeah,” the swordsman replies, lips quirking in between what Luffy cannot tell is a smile or a frown. “I had a rival once. She died when we were kids. Whenever I picked up her katana, it felt like she was watching me. It was troubling... but eventually, I found the strength to keep training. For her,” Zoro affirms, then furrows his eyebrows at Luffy. “I know it’s not the same as what you’re going through. But you’re alive–which means you can continue living.”

Luffy stares at him with a guileless look, lets the cool sand sift between his fingers. After a moment of consideration, he mutters, “Sorry, Zoro.” And before his first mate can ask why, he presses on shakily. “A captain is supposed to be stronger than this.” 

“Dumbass,” the green-haired man grunts. “Were you even listening to me?” 

Luffy tilts his head to the side. Zoro sighs, pressing a hand to his face. 

“I know it’s ridiculous coming from me, of all people… but strength isn’t everything. It never has been. If you’re hurt, let yourself hurt, Captain. We’ll stay beside you through it all.” 

The raven-haired pirate gives him a frail, lachrymose smile. “Thanks, Zoro.” 

“I just wish I could have helped you sooner,” the swordsman adds, a flash of pain crossing his face, but the moment of vulnerability is buried behind something more stoic and composed. He clears his throat. 

“Let’s head back to the others. You’ll feel better after Chopper treats you.” Zoro extends a hand. “Can you walk?”

Luffy wipes his eyes. “Y–Yeah...”

“Liar.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it lads, enjoy...

When the captain and his first mate return to camp, one look at Zoro’s face tells them not to ask. Luffy has a timid, uncomfortable glint in his eyes, like he’s unsure what to say, or if he should even say anything, which is unsettling to Ace, Vivi, and his nakama all the same. And now that everyone is awake, with little chance of sleeping restfully after that scare, there is zero chance of Luffy disappearing into his tent and pretending nothing happened. No matter how much he may want to. 

Nami knows the group needs to keep moving, there aren’t enough resources in the desert, and the meager food and water supply dwindles every hour they remain. It’s for Vivi, her country–millions of innocent people. And by the end of Crocodile’s rule, hopefully a royal stash of Beli (but Nami’s greed, admittedly, has taken the backburner at this point). 

They used to be under the impression that there could be little room for error; they mustn’t halt unnecessarily on their journey, because Crocodile would not wait to destroy this country, its people. Luffy had settled his feet to the foreign ground and promised to help Princess Vivi, just because they were friends. There need be no other reason. 

Watching Luffy now, the rigid set of his shoulders as he flicks his gaze from person to person… it’s hard to get used to. Nami never considered her captain anxious before now, but pain brings out parts of you that used to be easily hidden. And it’s useless, the sentiments, the apologies;  _ You don’t deserve this _ and  _ I wish I had been there for you  _ rattling her mind every time she looks at him. It helps nothing, just as Arlong’s empty promises had been–the only hope Nami could cling to then. Just as his racism bent around the young navigator because she was considered useful, different. 

And there had been the inevitable fear, likely the same fear embedded into Luffy here and now, because each day presented the wretched unknown, a guaranteed taste of pain. Nami never knew how far it would go, to what lengths Arlong’s crew would hurt her, she just tried to stay away as long as possible before finding out. She wouldn’t put it past them to have committed the same awfulness done upon her captain. To have indulged that same unfairness, a writhing serpent crawling slowly up her nauseous form, when she saw Luffy sprawled out on the sandstone, deathly still and silent, pieces of him eaten away by the monsters behind the door. 

Although Nami tries to sleep, she knows she will wish she hadn’t. Her nakama seem to share the same haunted disposition, so they remain awake as well. Usopp and Sanji gently murmur amongst themselves beside the rekindled fire, Chopper has ushered Luffy away to his tent, and Vivi sits alone in the darkness, despite Nami’s insistence she join them. As for Zoro–his eyes remain on the place where their captain and his doctor disappeared, and it takes a prolonged moment to realize that his loyal gaze is not quite the same. His pupils sporadically focus in and out against the fire light, iron jaw clenched so tightly in place that Nami can’t bring herself to ask him what they spoke about, because it’s clear the swordsman won’t be able to lift the anvil Luffy left in his wake. 

If there’s anything it looks to Nami that Zoro wants to say, it is:  _ We must be better. This can’t happen.  _ She agrees with him, as annoying as that is to admit, but they cannot erase what has already been written. Luffy cannot be un-hurt; the marks in his neck, the nightmares, the trembling in his hands he tries to hide from his nakama… there is no solution to this looming monstrosity of guilt amongst the Straw Hats. 

It’s painful how much Luffy doesn’t want them to see him like this. But Nami finds that the words she wants to say to him escape her whenever they’re together–she doesn’t want to bring more cursed light to his pain if it’s his wish to bury it. She knows a thing or two about suffering, about shame. Years ago, Nami’s destructiveness was of little consequence when she was alone–no obligations, no friends. Nothing to lose. She could manipulate, betray, and steal as much as she wanted, since her world revolved around the price tag on her village. 

But then, a single teenager in a straw hat, a teenager one massive year younger than Nami herself, managed to change it all, just because he refused to back down to her stubbornness. There are no words to convey such a debt in her books; the same words she cannot speak, as simple as the  _ Help me _ that took miles of weariness to finally whimper out in desperation. Nami’s last resort which turned out to be the catalyst of the best years of her life. No tone nor emphasis on the phrase  _ Thank you _ will ever compare to the gratitude she feels toward Luffy. 

Still, Nami’s strength had not been enough to save him; her arms were too weak, her mind too full of chaos. She had to transcribe his screams into music, his blood into paint, the tracks of tears across his face into nothing more than a trick of the light. There was no comprehending the horrific implications of his injuries, or the way his voice transformed from anger to spine-chilling fear in the span of a few awful seconds. And now the nightmares; Nami wants to join him in the darkness just so Luffy can feel that he isn’t alone. 

It’s by now she realizes how heavy her eyes have gotten, and how the time between blinks has lengthened. Chopper has still not returned from treating Luffy, Usopp’s head lolls against Sanji’s shoulder as he tries to keep himself awake, Vivi has moved closer to rest against a nearby tree, and Zoro’s grief-struck gaze remains in the distance, slowly accumulating exhaustion. Fire Fist sits so quietly that Nami almost forgets he’s there, eyes locked onto the fire as if entranced by it. 

“Ace,” she says, surprising herself. 

The Whitebeard pirate glances up at her, then back to the withering flames. From his fingertips, he shoots a few more sparks into the hearth. His voice is soft and hushed. “Yeah?” 

Nami bites her lip, glancing at her fellow nakama, the princess, the abyss surrounding them all. Her unspoken words hang heavy in the air, and as if speaking for the first time, she asks, “How do we fix this?”

Ace smiles at her–a sad and tired thing. “I was hoping you could tell me.” 

The fire crackles. 

Nami realizes quickly that there is no response she can offer that will satisfy the situation, and as she looks into Fire Fist’s eyes, it becomes clear that he’s not expecting one. She feels helpless, lost, and Ace is the first to pull his gaze away, returning to his distant trance in the flames. 

Usopp whispers across the sand, his voice solidifying everyone’s restlessness. “Is anyone asleep?” 

A few pairs of eyes make their way over to the sharpshooter, bloodshot and lagging. He raises his chin slightly, flicks his gaze toward Luffy’s tent, and nods. 

“Me neither.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Would love some comments, they seriously fuel me so much! :)


End file.
